


I am Lost

by kiranightshade



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Post-Season/Series 02, Sad Stiles Stilinski, Scott is a Bad Friend, The jeep's name is Roscoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 01:00:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9574904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiranightshade/pseuds/kiranightshade
Summary: Stiles is left alone and unbalanced when he gets the news. His mother's jeep is officially gone. It's never coming back and Stiles just...can't right now.Turns out he wasn't the only one who needed a break.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I almost put Roscoe as a character and then scared you with a Major Character Death but I decided against it.

The grass is wet under his jeans. It’s cold and uncomfortable but Stiles doesn’t move from where he’s losing a staring contest with a slab of stone.

Claudia Stilinski  
1975-2005

They never got an inscription for her. They can claim hospital bills forever, and not even be wrong, but Stiles knows they could never find a collection of words to properly convey all that she was. They could never articulate how she bled life into everything she touched and the devastation it wrought when she left those who relied on her. Saying she left leaves a bitter taste on his tongue, always has. She didn’t pack a bag and drive. She didn’t decide to go on some extended vacation and abandon any who may need her. She died. She held on for as long as she could but she was taken anyway. Taken, not left. She didn’t fucking leave.

Even when she turned on her son it was because she didn’t want to leave.

All two of her family had different methods of coping. The sheriff sought to forget. Forget the pictures, forget her quilt, forget her paints, forget her kitchen, forget her son. The son with her eyes and excitement. Her courage and her curiosity and her ADHD.

Stiles, however, clung to her memory. Hid away the quilt and her half-finished paintings and her books and the pictures on the wall whenever his dad was passed out or at work. He got everything in the attic within a month.

Almost everything.

Claudia Stilinski was a newlywed and pregnant at twenty years old. Neither she nor her husband had had much in the way of family. The wedding itself was a small affair, but Claudia still had her parents and they decided their only daughter deserved something special for the life she made for herself. That jeep was the last thing they were able to give her, Stiles remembers.

Claudia loved that jeep. She drove it everywhere. She learned how to take care of her Roscoe with as much dedication and love as she did her baby boy. That jeep became her love for her parents and through it Stiles can honestly say he loves the grandparents he never got the chance to meet.

His father never goes into the garage anymore.

Her devotion became his own after she died. He learned enough to keep her running because he may not have been able to save his mom, but he damn well can keep Roscoe alive.

When he learned how to budget their income, he always put aside enough for two separate emergency funds. One was for general emergencies. The one that was dried up by hospital bills and then the funeral. The other was for Roscoe. Money for broken parts and the mechanic.

He won’t be needing it anymore.

He only got it back on the road a year ago and it’s already dead. Logically, he knows it wasn’t just reckless driving that killed it. It doesn’t make the weight in his chest any lighter.

Fuck werewolves and their fucking problems. Screw Scott for leaving him blind and vulnerable. Screw Gerard for driving him to such drastic measures. Fuck the Jackson-shaped dent that sealed Roscoe’s fate.

Fuck the world for taking his mother away again.

Losing her isn’t even why he’s angry. Blindsided? Yes. Devastated? Yes. Angry? No, not really. He knew the risk when he drove through that wall. He knew the stakes. 

He’s angry because Scott knows what he did. He knows why Roscoe was so important. He knows what he gave up for him and yet the phone in his lap is accusingly silent. It’s been a week and Scott is acting like everything is back to normal. Like Stiles wasn’t led to believe they were pack. Not just to each other but to Derek and his betas as well. Like he didn’t lie to everyone. Like he didn’t trust his shady boss more than his brother. Like he didn’t use someone and turn something he saw as beautiful into a weapon and yet sneers at another like his sins excuse his own. 

He acts like he did nothing wrong while Stiles can’t look Derek in the eye.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there. Doesn’t know how long he lets his grief consume him as he rips grass blades apart. He doesn’t know how long he hasn’t been alone.

Peter is in his line of sight before he’s standing next to him. He doesn’t comment on the grave and Stiles doesn’t ask what he’s doing here.

They both already know.

Peter lets his hand drop onto Stiles’ head and Stiles doesn’t shy away when blunt nails glide through what little hair he has. They stand there in tentative silence until the sun starts to disappear behind the trees surrounding them. Stiles sighs and the action pushes him further into Peter’s gentle petting “I never wanted to kill you.” 

Peter stills but doesn’t tense.

“I wanted to give mercy to something feral and dangerous. Something beyond saving. Looking back, you never reached that point. I regret what I did to you- especially the way I did.”

Peter is silent for a long time. Stiles is rooted to the spot until Peter continues dragging his nails over Stiles’ skull. “You protected your pack. I could never fault you for that.”

“Great lot of good that did.”

“It’s not your fault he turned out to be what he is.”

“What; a traitor? A liar? An idiot?”

“Unworthy.”

Stiles nods once because that one damning word says it all. When things got tough, Scott- his brother, his pack- left him. He left him behind and never even noticed his absence. Never noticed just how much Stiles did for him. How much he gave in the name of friendship. In the name of family. In the name of pack.

“What did you see in me?” Stiles doesn’t elaborate.

Peter understands anyway “I saw someone I could trust.”

“What do you see now?”

“Potential.”

“Potential for what?”

“To be someone that could save our pack.”

 

*** 

 

Our pack.

The words resonate with him as his lips form them silently and keep him awake. He’s still considered pack. Derek doesn’t believe he betrayed him. They still trust him.

Stiles can hardly believe it.

They still want him around. They even want his help.

Tears stick his lashes together for his mom.

Lips curve for his pack.

 

*** 

 

He’ll find Erica and Boyd if it kills him.


End file.
